Strange
by Tathar
Summary: [PreQuest] [Nonslash] Another LJ vignette, a birthday present for Obelia Medusa. At a party, Frodo is having difficulties with the lasses... Pointlessly silly.


****

A/N: Another vignette originally posted on my LJ, this one as a birthday present for Obelia Medusa. Again, just a bit of silliness!

****

Strange

"I don't know, Sam," said Frodo as they headed for the Party Field. "Of course I'm looking forward to the party. But I don't think I'll dance tonight."  
  
"Whyever not, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam curiously. He was puzzled and concerned by his friend's uncharacteristic slumped shoulders and anxious expression.  
  
Frodo didn't answer right away, and Sam's eyes widened to see him actually blush. "The lasses, Sam, they act so strange around me!" Frodo finally blurted. They had entered the largest pavilion where most of the hobbits were gathered, eating, socializing, and dancing. The two began making their way towards Bilbo, who stood nearby, greeting guests.  
  
"Strange how, sir?" Having grown up with two extremely silly older sisters, Sam was fairly well-acquainted with the odd and unpredictable doings of tweenage lasses; his oldest sister, Daisy, had in fact spend months mooning about over Mr. Frodo himself when he had first come to live at Bag End. Sam was also aware (via his knowledgable sisters) that several other Hobbiton lasses were of similar mind—and why not? He considered as he eyed his young master with raised eyebrows. Mr. Frodo was the kindest, smartest hobbit Sam knew of (with the exception of dear Mr. Bilbo, of course), and quite the handsomest, too, he reckoned. Not to mention the richest.  
  
"Surely they can't act no stranger than Daisy used to?" he said, hoping to be encouraging, and trying his best not to chuckle. As of today, Mr. Frodo had only three more years to go before he came of-age, and when that happened Sam suspected that he would have to begin fending off hopeful mothers and silly, swoony daughters with old Mr. Bilbo's sword. Of course he felt sorry for his master, but he had to admit that the idea of Mr. Frodo repeling ladies with a sword was rather amusing.  
  
Frodo allowed himself a small smile, remembering Daisy's baffling antics of a few years before, but he shook his head, smile fading as he saw that Bilbo was speaking with a young couple, shaking the lad's hand and kissing the lass's.   
  
"You'll see soon enough, I expect, Sam," he muttered darkly, before squaring his shoulders and joining his uncle, immediately donning a façade of polite pleasure that would easily have fooled anyone who did not know better.  
  
"Ah, there you are, my lad!" said Bilbo heartily, taking Frodo's arm and pulling him close. "I was wondering when you'd get here. Fortunately you've arrived just in time to meet Mr. Ponto Brockhouse and the lovely Miss Lily Hornblower. They've just moved here from Michel Delving. Mr. Brockhouse, Miss Hornblower, may I present my cousin and heir, Frodo."  
  
Following his uncle's earlier lead, Frodo bowed politely, shook Ponto's hand and then lightly kissed Lily's, murmuring a proper greeting. Sam, standing a little to the side, was amazed at how well he maintained his cheerful façade, although he thought he saw Frodo stiffen just slightly in anticipation of Lily's reaction after he had kissed her hand. Looking at Miss Hornblower, Sam had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle.  
  
"A pleasure, young sir, quite a pleasure!" said Ponto with genuine delight as he shook Frodo's hand with almost bruising force. Apparently he was oblivious to his fiancé's condition.  
  
Frodo smiled, deciding immediately that he liked the stocky and honest-faced Ponto. "Pleased to meet you both. I hope you are enjoying Hobbiton so far?"  
  
"Oh, very much so, very much." Ponto nodded enthusiastically, and then placed an arm around his fiancé's shoulders. "We intend to have our wedding here. Isn't that right, my dear?" There was no answer, and Ponto looked quizzically at his companion as Sam saw Frodo glance away to hide a grimace. "Lily?"  
  
Lily was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed straight ahead, her hand still frozen in mid-air. "My dear Miss Hornblower, are you quite all right?" asked a concerned Bilbo. "Perhaps you need a little fresh air."  
  
"Yes, that's it," agreed Ponto hurriedly, looking both worried and confused. He tugged his fiancé gently. "Come on, my dear, let's go get—"  
  
At that moment, Lily seemed to come out of her daze. She closed her mouth, looked for a moment at Frodo, her eyes still wide, and then immediately threw a hand over her mouth as her cheeks grew red. "I… If you'll excuse me for a moment, sirs," she gasped suddenly. "I-I think I need a bit of air."  
  
Before anyone could say a word, she had turned and fled through the crowd, heading towards the pavilion opening. _So_ that's _what Mr. Frodo had meant by "strange!"_ Sam thought, concentrating extra hard to keep from giggling, and he wondered who looked more confused, Mr. Bilbo or Ponto. Mr. Frodo glanced at Sam with a wince and a look that said, I told you so.   
  
Blinking a few times, Ponto Brockhouse finally found his voice. "Er, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Baggins," he said quickly, nodding to both Bilbo and Frodo, "I'll just go see if she's all right."  
  
"Of course," agreed Bilbo, and Ponto sped off after his fiancé. Bilbo glanced at his nephew, who was blushing furiously and looking embarrassed. "Any idea what just happened, lad?"  
  
Frodo shook his head with a sigh. "Perhaps the crowd was too much for her," he suggested weakly. "It is rather loud and hot in here."  
  
Bilbo frowned. "Perhaps so. I do hope she's all right."   
  
Deciding that he would have less chance of similar encounters without his uncle to introduce him to all and sundry, Frodo quickly scanned the crowd and found just the hobbit he needed. "Uncle, I see Merry over there," he said hastily. "I think I'll go say hello." Before Bilbo could reply, Frodo had grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him along through the crowd.  
  
Shaking his head, Bilbo muttered, "Tweenagers." With a shrug, he then returned to greeting and socializing with the guests.  
  
"Hoy! Frodo!" Merry called, seeing his cousin approaching with Sam in tow. "I was just looking for you."  
  
"Thank goodness, Merry," a very relieved Frodo replied as he made his way through the crowd. "You wouldn't believe what—" He stopped short as he saw that Merry had on his arm a pretty, black-haired hobbitlass. _Oh, no…_  
  
"Frodo, you remember Estella, don't you?" Merry asked, smiling at the girl. "I know it's been ages since you two last saw each other, but…"  
  
"Estella!" Frodo exclaimed with relief. "Of course I remember. We were good friends while I lived at Brandy Hall." As children, it had been a game of theirs to greet each other with great theatrics whenever they met. Remembering the game, Frodo bowed with a flourish and kissed her hand. "My lady!"  
  
Sam was again giggling, and Merry, having once joined in the same game, was grinning, too. But Estella did not respond with the proper deep curtsey and dramatic, "My lord." In fact, she did not respond at all. Like Lily Hornblower, she was gaping at Frodo with wide eyes and an open mouth. She came out of her daze much more quickly then Lily, however; after a few seconds, she blinked rapidly and swallowed.   
  
"F-forgive me, Frodo," she stammered without any of her usual self-assuredness. "I—er, I need a breath of air."  
  
With a swish of her skirts, Estella fled through the crowd and was quickly lost to sight, leaving them staring after her.  
  
After a moment, Merry frowned and looked at his cousin. "Lawks!" he said. "I've never seen her act like that. Whatever did you do to her, Frodo?"   
  
Frodo groaned and covered his face with his hands. "This always seems to happen to me now! Why is it that every time I meet a girl, she does… _that_?"   
  
Merry patted his cousin's shoulder. "Don't feel bad, Frodo," he said reassuringly. "You never know what a tweenage lass is going to do. Although I must admit I never thought that Estella would be one to act so - well, _girlish!_"  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Frodo," Sam piped up. "Remember when Daisy was the same way? She got over it after a while."  
  
"I hope so," Frodo mumbled. "This is ridiculous. I would like nothing more than to find a nice dancing partner to spend the evening with, but they keep running away from me!"  
  
Merry shrugged. "They'll come back eventually," he said. "And then you can dance with them. In the meantime, I for one am going to find something to eat. Where's the cake?"  
  
Sighing, Frodo pointed towards Bilbo and watched as Merry sped off. After a moment, Frodo looked down at Sam. "Where is the rest of your family, Sam?" he asked. "I think I can rely on them not to run away from me, except perhaps your sisters."  
  
Sam stood on tip-toe and scanned the crowd. "There's Hamson!" he exclaimed excitedly, pointing at his broad-shouldered, sandy-haired oldest brother at the other side of the pavilion. "He won't run away from you, Mr. Frodo!"  
  
"I should hope not," said Frodo, grinning with delight. "I didn't think he was coming home until the Free Fair!"  
  
The two made their way through the crowd to join Hamson Gamgee, and upon arriving they discovered him to be in company with a pretty young hobbitmaid with dark hair and hazel eyes. Seeing Frodo's sudden uncertainty, Sam squeezed his hand reassuringly and whispered, "Don't worry, Mr. Frodo. It must be Miss Henna — an' Ham wouldn't court a lass who ran away from 'im all the time!"  
  
Frodo smiled in reply, feeling a little heartened.  
  
"Sam-lad, Mr. Frodo!" exclaimed Hamson joyfully, coming forward to embrace his younger brother and shake Frodo's hand. "Happy birthday to you, Mr. Frodo, and to Mr. Bilbo!" he added.  
  
"Thank you, Ham," Frodo replied, forgetting his discomfort and overjoyed at seeing his old friend again. "But I didn't know you would be coming—I thought you weren't due home until the Free Fair?"  
  
"Aye, I was," Hamson nodded cheerfully. "But I just couldn't wait to show off my lovely Henna to you all," the hobbit-lass beside him smiled a little shyly, "so I decided to surprise you."  
  
"Well, you certainly did!" said Frodo, steeling himself for the inevitable. "So this is the Miss Henna Sam's told me about?"  
  
"That she is," said Hamson proudly, putting a strong arm around her shoulders. "Henna, this is the Mr. Frodo Baggins I've told you about."  
  
Bracing himself, Frodo smiled warmly as he greeted her politely, and then kissed her hand. For a moment he dared not look up at her face, but when he did, he was hard-put not to gape himself! Her only reaction was a slight twitch of the mouth and widening of the eyes, and her shoulders seemed to quiver briefly as if with surpressed laughter. But when she spoke her voice held nothing but kindness.  
  
"I'm right pleased to meet you, sir," said Henna sincerely. "My Hamson's told me a lot about you."  
  
It took Frodo a moment to gather his wits after such an unexpected reaction, but finally, smiling broadly with relief, he was able to say lightly, "Oh, dear. Not telling tales of my wayward Buckland childhood, I hope?"  
  
Hamson laughed. "Why not, Mr. Frodo?" he teased in return. "All I know about it is what you've told me, an' it usually makes for a pretty entertaining story!"  
  
Frodo sighed, looking down at Sam who was giggling helplessly. "Samwise, I do believe that your brother's stay in Tighfield has had adverse effects," he said straight-faced. "I shall have to watch what I tell him from now on, I see!"  
  
"Oh, surely not, Mr. Frodo!" Henna put in, laughing. "I'm afraid the only adverse effect Tighfield's had on Ham is me—I couldn't get 'im to tell me a single story about your years in Buckland."  
  
"She tried, too," chuckled Hamson.  
  
"Ah, so she's the mischief-maker!" exclaimed Frodo teasingly, blue eyes alit and dancing with the mirth that Sam had been missing that day. "Well then, we can hope that Hamson will be able to tame you a little."  
  
Hamson shook his head, laughing along with the others. "I'm not so sure o' that, Mr. Frodo," he said. "My Henna's a stubborn lass, she is. P'raps a bit too wild for the likes of Hobbiton," he added, ignoring her indignant snort. "Buckland might be a better place for us to settle."  
  
"Yes, Buckland is quite wild enough for her, I think," said Frodo thoughtfully. Both he and Hamson were ignoring Henna's halfhearted protests and Sam's continued laughter. "But Tighfield is rather wild, too, seemingly—if they raise lasses like her. Perhaps you should consider settling there."  
  
"Aye, that might do it, Mr. Frodo," agreed Hamson, grinning down at Henna's mock-scowl of displeasure. "But I'll try to get 'er to behave while we're here for the Free Fair. Wouldn't do to frighten me folks with her!"  
  
As Frodo nodded in solemn agreement Henna was finally allowed to speak. "Hamson Gamgee, you are a brute!" she exclaimed with feigned indignation, folding her arms. "I don't think I shall marry you after all—I'll go back to Tighfield and marry that great lout Willy Bracegirdle just to spite you."  
  
Hamson immediately looked contrite as he raised her chin with his fingers. "Aw, you wouldn't do that to your Ham, would you?" he asked pitifully, sticking out his lower lip a little. "Why, what would I do then? I'd 'ave no one to tease!"  
  
"You and Mr. Frodo seem to do that quite well without my help," Henna grumbled, not quite appeased yet and enjoying making him work for it.  
  
"Aye, but Mr. Frodo's here in Hobbiton an' I'll still be a-workin' in Tighfield, where I'll see you every day! That'd be cruel hard, Miss Henna."  
  
"Perhaps if you gave me a good reason to put up with you a little longer," Henna said in mock severity, "I'll consider it."  
  
Hamson grinned mischievously at her, bent and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her chin and gesturing around the pavilion. "Parties like this, love," he said merrily. "Mr. Bilbo always throws the very best parties. Isn't that enough?"  
  
Henna smiled, acquiesing. "Very well," she conceded, "that will due for now—if there's cake."  
  
"There is, and lots of it," Frodo assured her, grinning. "We Hobbiton-folk may be a bit strange but we're certainly sensible enough to always provide plenty of cake to go 'round at our parties!"  
  
"Well, that is a relief," Henna answered primly. "Hobbiton might not be such a terrible place, after all. Ham dear, would you mind getting me a slice or two of cake? I need a bit of fresh air—I'll be back in half a moment."  
  
"Of course, m'dear," said Hamson. "The largest pieces for you!"  
  
"All this talk of cake is making me hungry," said Frodo brightly. "I don't believe I've had my piece yet! What about you, Sam?"  
  
"I can't say as some cake would come amiss right now," agreed Sam, rubbing his stomach. "I'm near famished!"  
  
"I'll lead the way, then, Hamson," said Frodo. "It seems that we're all in need of some cake. And perhaps by the time we're finished, Estella and the other lasses will be back, and we can join the dancing, after all!"  
  
Sam cheerfully voiced agreement, as did Hamson, and they followed Frodo he began to make his way through the crowds. Hamson called over his shoulder, "I'll make sure that these ruffians save some for you, Henna-lass!"   
  
"Thank'ee, Ham dear," Henna called back with a smile, before turning and heading out of the pavilion. As she walked, slowly at first, then quickening her pace, her mouth and shoulders began to twitch and by the time she was outside, she was stifling giggles with one hand.  
  
Behind some bushes near the pavilion, Henna found Estella Bolger and Lily Hornblower, just starting to pick themselves up. "I think I'm—" (giggle) "—all right now, Lily," the former said. "How are you now?"  
  
"Just—" (giggle) "—fine," answered Lily, taking a deep breath. "There. I think I can go back inside now without disgracing myself. Poor Ponto must be near-frantic."  
  
"So long as I avoid Frodo for an hour or so, I think I'll be all right," said Estella in agreement, starting to smile again. "I'm afraid I've frightened the poor dear out of a month's growth. But I couldn't help myself. D-did… Did you see that smile of his? And his eyes—ohh!" She was dangerously close to giggling again, and clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she fought for control.  
  
Lily sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as her mouth twitched rebelliously. "Y-yes. Yes, I did." A titter escaped her and she pressed her lips together firmly to keep more from following. When she decided it was safe, she opened her eyes and continued. "Perhaps later on we can make it up to him somehow—take a turn dancing with him?"  
  
Estella nodded and the two began to emerge from the bushes. But just at that moment Henna's self-control finally gave, and she threw herself past the two startled hobbitmaids to the ground behind the bushes, laughing helplessly into the grass.  
  
"Oh, dear," said Lily mildly. "Another victim of Master Frodo's charm. I wonder how many more he will claim tonight?"  
  
Henna began to gasp incoherently, her voice muffled against the ground, "Frodo…. M-Mr. Frodo…. k-kissed—he kissed my hand…. his eyes… so blue… Ohhhh!" The rest was lost in another bout of hysterical giggles.  
  
"He's probably avoiding all the lasses now." Estella shook her head. "Really! I had better go back inside, keep myself scarce for a while and then make it up to him, as you said." She glanced at the prostrate and laughing hobbitgirl in the bushes. "She'll be all right in a few minutes. Come on, Lily."  
  
Brushing leaves and twigs from their skirts and hair, the two hobbit lasses composed themselves and entered the building, leaving Henna Twofoot laughing uncontrollably within the bushes.

**The End**

Oh yes, and Henna Twofoot belongs to **Obelia Medusa**! :)


End file.
